“I swear my allegiance to you,” he said, his voice softening with awe.
It held Reller’s head toward him.
“Take and eat,” it said. “The body of your enemy gives you power.”
Javier kept his eyes on the fallen God in front of him. He pulled flesh from the back of Reller’s head wound and clenched it between his teeth. The taste was sweet and strong, like wine. The thing took its other hand and with the nail of its index finger made an indention in the middle of Javier’s forehead. Then he slowly pulled the nail around counterclockwise. A small trail of blood began oozing from the wound and suddenly Javier was consumed with an intense hunger. He looked back to the demon as it shifted on its rooster legs and rested one large paw on a smooth round stone about the size of a grapefruit.
“My body is weak and tired,” the ape thing said. Javier’s eyes were wide and bits of foam flecked in the corners of his mouth. His tongue felt swollen. He was ravenous.
“Do you swear to serve me and no one else.”
“I do.”
It lifted the stone and held it like a baseball as water began running over its fingers and onto the floor. It bent down and with the other hand, tossed Reller’s body to the kneeling man.
“Eat up,” it said. “We have property to retrieve.”
VI
The house had been silent ever since Ruth’s outburst at Javier. Robert and Cindy let her rest for an hour before Robert decided to check on her. He made his way up the stairs and into Ruth’s room to find her sleeping in much the same position she’d been in when he’d last left her. He looked around the bedroom. Despite practically living here with her, he’d rarely been in it.
The room was decorated in much the same way the house was. The bed frame had a quilt hanging over the footboard. There was a small nightstand on the left side of the bed and on it sat a lamp made to look like an old oil lamp. Next to the lamp sat two books, one a pristine collection of poems by Robert Frost and the other a book Robert had given her; Baudelaire’s The Parisian Prowler. Robert figured she might like the view of Paris through Baudelaire’s eyes, but knowing Ruth, she’d probably never even cracked it open.
The walls were mostly barren aside from one picture of she and her son from what looked like the 1960s. He was eight or nine years old in the picture. On her bureau there were about ten framed photographs of her two grandchildren. Ruth didn’t have any pictures of her husband around. From what Robert understood, he had died rather early, when her son was just a young boy.
Ruth stirred and Robert turned his attention back to her.
“Ruth,” he said softly.
She opened her eyes, pulled the blanket tight around herself and shuddered.
“Are you okay, Ruth?”
Her eyes remained wide and staring. She looked down at the hand he had placed on her arm and pulled it away.
“Don’t touch me,” she said.
“Look Ruth, I’m not sure what’s going on but I’m thinking maybe it would be best if we get a doctor back out here.”
She pulled herself up and pushed her back against the headboard.
“I don’t need a doctor, Robert.”
He stepped back from the bed with his hands in front of him.
“Fine. We won’t get a doctor. I’m just worried about you. The way you reacted to Javier…”
“He’s a murderer,” she said firmly, “and you know about it. That makes you almost as bad.”
Robert looked at her stunned.
“Ruth, I don’t know what you’re talking about but I can assure you Javier is no murderer.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me. I could see it on him. I could see the hollowness in him.”
Robert reached over toward the nightstand and grabbed the phone.
“That’s it, I’m calling the doctor.”
Ruth moved with a speed and strength that defied her age. She pulled the phone off the nightstand and ripped the cord from the wall.
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said glaring at him.
Robert threw his hands up, “Whoa! Okay. Look, I don’t know exactly what’s gotten into you but…”
“He harms others and you allow him to,” Ruth spat back. “He has murdered with his own hands and he’s tainted you.”
“Ruth you sound like a dime store psychic.”
“Look in my eyes and tell me I’m not right,” she challenged.
Robert was quiet.
“Tell me I’m not right!”
Robert walked out of the room as Ruth swung herself out of bed and followed him.
“What goes on in that bar of yours, Robert?”
He walked into the kitchen and found Cindy staring at him puzzled.
“People die because of what you do there, don’t they?”
Ruth was coming down the stairs.
“Is J.B. in on it too? Have I been living with a nest of vipers this whole time?”
Robert looked at Cindy then turned toward the back door and started heading toward it. He stopped and stepped into his unlaced snow boots.
“It’s not too late for you,” Ruth called after him. “I can tell you haven’t crossed the line.”
Robert stopped with the door pulled half open. He turned around and looked back at her as the cold air swirled around him.
“What did you say?”
Ruth pulled her robe tighter around her.
“I said it’s not too late for you.”
“No, I mean about crossing a line.”
“I can tell. You haven’t crossed it. Whatever you’ve done is forgivable.”
Robert’s eyes scanned her face. His brow furrowed.
“Why would you say that?” he asked.
Behind Ruth, Cindy was staring at him, looking for whatever it was that Ruth was talking about.
“You’ve heard that before, have you?” Ruth said, softening. She walked to him and reached for his arm.
“Come back inside.”
Robert closed the door and followed her back to the kitchen. They sat down at the small table.
“What’s going on?” Cindy asked.
“I don’t know exactly,” Ruth started, “but something inside me is different. I don’t see things the way I did yesterday. I think Anderson was the same. I think it has to do with the rock.”
“Anderson knew about the rock?” Robert asked.
Cindy looked at both of them like they were crazy, “What rock?”
“We found a box in Ruth’s cellar that had a rock in it. It’s actually in the tub in the upstairs bathroom. It sweats water out of it.”
“Sweats water?” Cindy asked incredulously.
“It’s true,” Ruth confirmed. “Robert will show it to you when we’re finished here and yes, Anderson knew about it. You should have seen his face. He said it was one of the sacred stones Joseph Smith received when he was told to found the Mormon Church. He thinks it’s protecting this house from evil and I think he’s right.”
She paused, “He says there are two more.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sacred rocks are protecting the house from evil?”
Cindy looked over at Robert, “And you believe this too?”
“The stone is real,” he replied. “Whether it protects anyone or not, it does leak water which is weird enough. If you don’t believe me, go look now.”
He turned back to Ruth.
“You’ve never once mentioned religion to me beyond Christmas wishes and Easter Sunday dinners. I’ve never even seen a Bible in this house. Now you’re telling me you believe that a sacred Mormon stone is protecting you from evil?”
Ruth smiled a weak smile at him.
“You said you could see stains or whatever on me,” Robert continued. “What do they look like?”
Ruth leaned forward in her chair, reached out and took his hand.
“Your fingers aren’t bloody like Javier’s, but they’re dark. Darker than I remember seeing them before.”
She ran a finger across his p
alm.
“When I do this, I can see the darkness swirl some and I can see your normal skin tone underneath. It’s like clearing out dirty water and seeing a glimpse of sandy bottom.”
“What about the rest of me?” Robert asked.
“You’re dark all over but your heart is still good. I can see it like a ruby beneath the dark brown of your skin. When I saw Javier, I saw a hole there. All the darkness was swirling around that hole like it was a drain.”
Robert pulled his hand back and looked at it.
“What about me?” Cindy asked.
“You’re practically glowing.”
“And you seriously see this when you look at me right now?”
“Yes,” Ruth replied.
“I really do think we need to get a doctor to see you,” Robert said. “This has to be post traumatic stress or something.”
Ruth shook her head no and sat back in her seat again.
“When Anderson grabbed me, something passed between us. His hands touched mine and I felt a charge. That’s when the gun went off, but the charge I felt wasn’t the gun. It was like an electric shock. I felt it move through me. I think Anderson could see things like I see them now.”
“And when you shot him,” Robert finished, “this weird vision passed to you.”
Ruth’s smile had faded. She looked at him solemnly, “It sounds crazy, but I think it’s true. I think I can see whether a person is good or bad. Why else would I be seeing this?”
“Because you had a very stressful situation happen and your mind is still trying to cope with it.”
Cindy reached out for Ruth’s hand, “I think Robert’s right. We should get you to a doctor and see if maybe they can help you.”
Ruth pulled her hand back out of Cindy’s reach and turned her attention fully on Robert.
“What goes on in that bar of yours?”
Robert looked away from her. He stood up and walked over to the coffee maker.
“People die because of what goes on there don’t they?” Ruth continued.
Robert ignored her, pulled the pot out and filled it with water.
“Javier has killed people because of what happens there but you haven’t have you?” she pressed.
“People come in and drink,” he finally replied. “They play pool. They talk. They leave. That’s it.”
“When you lie, the darkness swirls around you."
Robert turned, coffee can still in his hands and looked first at Ruth and then at Cindy.
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Because what you’re doing is very bad, isn’t it?” Ruth said. “If I know what goes on there, I may ruin everything for you.”
“You know Ruth, you should keep things like that to yourself. If certain people heard you say that, things could get really ugly.”
“I’m not saying them to certain people. I’m saying them to you.”
Robert turned back around and put the coffee in the filter. He turned on the pot and took his time putting the can back in the cupboard.
“It’s a meeting place,” he said, finally. He turned to face both of them.
“That’s all. It’s where people meet who want to trade things the law may not like them trading.”
“What kind of things?” asked Cindy.
“Do you really want to know?” Robert countered.
She nodded.
“Mostly drugs,” he said. He looked from her over to Ruth.
“And you’ve known about it from the beginning?” she asked.
“That’s why I built it.”
Ruth shook her head, “But you knew it was wrong. From the very beginning you knew it was wrong. Why would you do it?”
Robert looked down. To Ruth it seemed as if he paused a moment to think.
“A long time ago,” he began, “my abuela took me to a reunion in Mexico. I don’t remember much about it. I was probably six or seven. When I was there, I met relatives I haven’t seen since. I don’t even remember their names, but I remember one of them told me a story. It’s weird when I think about it. It’s not the kind of story you would normally tell a kid, but I remember every word of it.”
He paused again as if thinking about how to start.
“There was once a very poor man and his wife. They lived in a run down shack with very little to eat and no money to buy anything at all. They had no cow, no chickens and they had to scrounge for everything they had. One day, the man told his wife he was going to go look around for work and see if there was anything he could find that would bring them a little money.
“His wife packed him three tacos with the last of the meat they had and he set out on the road toward the nearest town. Along the way, he came across an old beggar woman by the side of the road. She had nothing but the clothes on her back. The man stopped and talked to her for a moment. When she asked if he had anything he could give her, he reached into his bag and handed her one of the tacos. She thanked him and he went on his way.
“A little further down the road, he met another beggar woman. This woman was in even worse shape than the first and once again, he stopped to talk. Before he continued on his way, he reached in his bag and gave her one of his last two tacos. She thanked him and he continued down the road.
“He was still a days walk from town when his path joined up with a creek. He walked along it and after a mile or two he came across an injured man lying on the bank. The man had a broken leg and was in a lot of pain. The poor man pulled him into a shady area and cleaned his wound. He made a splint for him. When he had done all he could, he started to leave but the injured man stopped him and asked if he had anything to eat.
“The poor man looked in his bag and pulled out the remaining taco. He gave it away without hesitation and the injured man thanked him over and over. As he ate the taco he told the poor man that he and his compadres had ambushed a rich man and stolen a lot of money from him. While they were gathering up their loot, the federal troops came so he and his compadres split up and ran. He had been on horseback and he had hidden his share of the money in three places along the way, but as he crossed the creek, he lost his balance and fell off, breaking his leg. He told the poor man it had been three days since he had eaten and that by giving him the taco, he had likely saved the bandit’s life.
“In thanks, the bandit pointed across the creek and into the woods. He told him that if he were to go across the creek and follow the hoof prints of his horse, he would come across a hollowed out oak tree. Inside he would find a reward. So the poor man waded across the creek and found the oak tree. Inside there was a bag full of money; more money than the poor man had ever seen before in his entire lifetime. He stood there wondering to himself what he should do. Should he keep it and use it for his family or should he seek out the man it was stolen from and give it back? He wrestled with his decision and finally decided to take the money to a wealthy patron of the town.”
Robert poured a couple of cups of coffee and brought them to the table. He sat down, wrapping his hands around his cup and continued.
“The poor man went to the patron’s ranch and met him, explaining everything that had happened. The patron said to him, ‘You are a good man and a gentle soul. Give me the money and I will take care of everything.’
“So the poor man gave him the money. The patron fed him and sent him back on his way. All the way home, he thought to himself about how honest he had been and that surely he would sleep soundly and the owner of the money would likely give him a reward once the money was returned.
“When the poor man returned home, his wife asked him if he’d found work. He replied no but recounted everything that had happened. His wife was excited by his story. She felt he had done the right thing also and the two went to sleep dreaming about the reward money they would receive. A week passed and no one came to see the poor man so finally, he set out again to the patron’s house. When he got there, he asked the man about the reward. The patron told him to wait a moment and walked out of the r
oom.
“When he returned he had a rope in his hand. He tossed it to the poor man, saying, ‘Here is your reward.’
“The poor man was confused. He looked at the rope and said, ‘I don’t understand. What should I do with the rope?’ Do you know what the Patron replied?”
Robert paused and took a drink of his coffee.
Ruth shook her head.
“He said, ‘Use it to hang yourself for being a fool,’” Robert finished.
Ruth’s eyes bored into Robert. A look of disgust crossed her face, “So you think that if you are helping a bandit, you’ll be rewarded without being touched by the crimes he’s committed?”
“No,” Robert shook his head. “I think that being an honest man makes you poor, being an outlaw gets you killed and walking the line between the two is the only way to win.”
“And now that we know what you do at that bar, what happens?” asked Cindy.
Robert let the silence rest between them for a bit. Finally, he looked up at her.
“Nothing happens. As long no one else knows I told you, especially Javier, nothing happens.”
Ruth’s eyes darkened for a moment and became distant.
“Javier is gone,” she said, her voice, soft and strangely distant.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know how else to explain it,” Ruth replied.
“He’s just gone.”
VII
It was dark and J.B. was alone. He was seated in a large enclosure made of pine logs standing on their ends and banded together. The enclosure was topped with some kind of hide but in the center, there was a two-foot hole cut like a window to the sky. Through it, he could see small stars blinking. In front of him he could barely make out what looked like a fire ring that had not been used for a long, long time. He felt around on the ground and felt nothing but dirt. Behind him, rough logs pressed against his back.
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